In the year that has passed since I destroyed the coach with my wayward magic, I’ve learned to control my song. There have been several mishaps, of course, but in the end, I’ve learned to accept my singing for what it is.
The problem with this statement is that long before your father’s death you were singing freely and not harming anyone or destroying furniture but now you’re acting as if you thought that would happen every time you sang… which is ridiculously stupid. Especially knowing that what triggered that response was your anger and pain at finally knowing the true cause of your father’s death.
